


Unrequited.

by july4thkisses



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Use Their Words, M/M, Post-Stanford Era (Supernatural), Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23882242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/july4thkisses/pseuds/july4thkisses
Summary: Jess has just died, Sam's house has just burned down, and Sam is desperately in love with his brother.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, I mean not really - Relationship, it's unrequited dean/sam anyway
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	Unrequited.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this kinda pained me to write. It started off as the beginning to smut, but my brain is evil and took it here. Have some painful, angsty unrequited wincest :)))

Sam and Dean were staying at their first motel since Jess died. It was an old, run down place, but they had a room with two beds and running water, and that was all that they really needed. They were lying on their beds, both pretending to sleep, although sleep wasn't coming easy for either one of them, tonight.

Dean turned on the lamp beside his bed and stared at where Sam was laying facing away from him. "Sammy."

There was silence.

Dean sighed. "Sammy, I know you're awake. C'mon, talk to me."

Sam slowly turned over, looking at Dean. "Dean, I can't...I don't...I don't want to talk about her."

"You can't just shove this down, Sammy. Your girlfriend just burned to a crisp on the ceiling of your home, which also just burned down."

"You're all about shoving shit down, Dean. Why do you want me to open up so bad?"

"'Cos I'm worried," Dean replied. "That was some tough shit. I know you're fucked up over it. And I...I haven't been there for you. Not for a while." He cleared his throat. "I want to be."

"It was my fault you weren't there for me, remember? I'm the one that walked out, remember?" Sam asked bitterly.

"Look, Sam, I'm trying to fucking be here for you. Can you just drop the past, and let me do that?"

"No," Sam spat. "Jess burned up, coincidentally after I went hunting with you." He paused. "I should never have gone looking for dad with you. It's my fault."

"We don't even know that those things are correlated," Dean replied, narrowing his eyes.

"They damn well might be," Sam said, "and even if they aren't, the thing that killed her is the same thing that killed mom. Meaning that monsters, hunting, the supernatural, all of that--it's involved in her death." He was silent for a moment. "I just wanted out, Dean. That's all I fucking wanted. Out of this life, out of this job. I made a life for myself at Stanford, and now it's. It's. It's gone."

"I know," Dean replied, shutting his eyes for a moment before looking at Sam again. "I know. And as much as I hated you for leaving, as angry as I was with you, a part of me wanted out for you, too. You deserved that."

Sam swallowed hard. "It doesn't matter if I deserved it. I didn't get it. I won't get it, ever, probably. I'm mourning the life I had built for myself at the same time that I'm mourning Jess."

Dean was silent for a moment. "Did you ever mourn me?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"While you were away," Dean said. "While you were at school. Did you ever mourn your brother? I wasn't in your life anymore, after all."

Sam's face softened. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah, I did." Dean noticed that there were tears in his brother's eyes.

"Are you at least glad you've got me back now? I know you've lost your old life, and Jess, but--you've got me. Doesn't that count for something?"

"It counts for something," Sam replied. "Y'know, if you want me to open up about shit..."

Dean cocked his head. "I'm listening."

"Look, I loved Jess. I really, truly did. But it was more of a best friend type of love."

"Why'd you fucking date her, then?"

"Because the person I was...I am...in love with wasn't there. And won't ever be, at least in that way." Sam wiped at his eyes, brushing away the tears that had spilled onto his cheeks.

"What does that mean?" Dean asked.

Sam sniffled. "That's another thing I'm fucked up about," he laughed humorlessly. "I'm in love with someone who can never love me back, not in the way that I love them."

"Them?" Dean asked, furrowing his brows. "What does that mean? Is it not a girl? Are you...?"

"Queer?" Sam asked, blinking hard, trying to see straight again. "Yeah. That's kinda the least surprising part of this revelation, though." He gave up on trying to hold back the tears, and let them flow.

"What's more surprising than that? Sammy, why'd you never tell me?"

"Because," Sam choked back a sob, "because the only boy I've ever been in love with is you." He took a deep breath. "When I was with Jessica...when I was kissing her, or holding her, or--or fucking her, I would see your face. And part of the reason I'm so fucked up over her death is how immeasurably guilty I feel about that. I was supposed to be in love with her, Dean, and instead, I always found myself wishing she was my brother, instead. And now she's gone, and she died believing in a fucking lie."

Dean was silent, at a complete loss for words. "Sammy, I don't know what to say. I mean, I love you endlessly, you know that, but not...not in that way."

Sam screwed his eyes shut. "You think I don't know that?" He asked. "Why else would I have kept it from you for all these years?"

Dean just lay there, staring at Sam blankly.

"Can I..." Sam trailed off. "Can I kiss you? Just once? Just so we both know you don't feel it, too?"

Dean swallowed. "Sammy, I already know I don't feel it. I'm pretty sure I'd fucking know if I was in love with my fucking little brother." He looked at Sam, taking in all the pain that his brother was feeling. "Okay, fine. Just. Just one kiss. I guess after all that time being absent in your life while you were at Stanford, I owe you that much."

Sam blinked hard, then got up and knelt beside Dean's bed. "Are you sure?"

Dean cleared his throat. "I don't love you in that way, Sammy, but if a kiss will help you be sure of that...will it make it hurt less?"

"I don't know," Sam said honestly. "But at least we’ll know."

"Then go for it," Dean whispered, and closed his eyes.

Sam leaned in and pressed his lips against Dean's chastely. When he pulled away, he was blushing. "That was...everything I thought it would be." He bit his lip. "What do you feel?"

Dean screwed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, the look on his face was pained. "Nothing," he said. "I feel nothing."


End file.
